Until It's Time for You to Go
by southsidesister
Summary: After her divorce from Mark, Stacy returns to Princeton. She visits House at Mayfield, but doesn't tell him why she's back, until the devastating news she receives from a mutual friend forces her to come clean. House/Stacy. Slightly AU.
1. You're not a dream

"Dr. House, you have a visitor."

House was sitting on his bed, lost in a book he had been reading. He hadn't seen his roommate since breakfast and he loved the peace and quiet. It only occurred on Sunday's that his roommate would leave him alone, usually because he would get visitors. Sunday was the only day Mayfield allowed visitors onto the grounds, although the time with visitors was limited. House didn't look up at the orderly, who was standing in the doorway. "I am not expecting anybody." He continued reading, uninterested in whoever was here to see him. He had made it clear to Wilson that he didn't want anybody to visit him. And so far, they had all listened. But it had only been 5 weeks since he was admitted. One of his overly concerned co-workers was bound to get anxious and come see him anyway.

"Whatever you say. But I'd check it out if I were you. Ooh boy, she's hot!" The orderly waited a moment for House to look up before he was gonna tell the beautiful woman House was not receiving people today. The orderly's rude comment did get House's attention and House looked up. There was only one woman he could think of that would come visit him and he wasn't sure he was ready to deal with her yet. Cuddy had been on his mind for weeks and he still hadn't figured out what to do about her. House's heart rate increased a little and he scolded himself for getting nervous, constantly battling for control of his emotions.

He put the book down and lifted his leg over the edge of the bed. The pain shot through him and he could feel it all the way in his back. Being at Mayfield meant he was still able to take Vicodin, but his intake was being monitored. Just 4 pills a day and that was it. Right before House was admitted to Mayfield, he would easily take 8 pills a day, 10 if he was up all night. But the minute he had stepped foot into the psychiatric hospital, those days were over and he had to rely on his treating physician to give him the painkiller.

Taking a deep breath, House got his walking stick and followed the orderly out of the hospital, onto a small gravel path into the visitor's garden. The hospital was located on a small hill and the visitor's garden was just down a small slope. It was late June now and the weather was lovely; the temperature not high enough to burn your flesh, but just warm enough to make you feel a little more at ease. A soft breeze made the leaves on the big oak tree rustle softly. It almost seemed like nothing was wrong and this was just a normal day. But then he saw her form sitting on a bench under that big oak tree and he knew this was no ordinary day. House stopped dead in his tracks and for a moment he lost his resolve. Of all the beautiful women he knew, she was the last one he had ever expected to see here. He quickly composed himself, before taking a deep breath and announcing his presence.

"I told Wilson I didn't want any visitors."

Stacy sat with her back to him and his voice startled her. It had been so long since she had heard his voice. Three and a half years had passed since that night he had told her she would be better off without him; that he couldn't make her happy, because he was unwilling to change. And she had tried to forget about him, their kiss in Baltimore and the night they shared together, but she had been unable to shake the memories. And it had cost her. A lot.

When Stacy looked up, House was looking off into the distance, avoiding her gaze. The orderly interrupted: "You've got 45 minutes," and then left.

Stacy got up from the bench and waited for House to look at her. "I know. That's what he told me." House finally met her eyes. What the hell was she doing here? For a moment fear shot through him, afraid that what was happening wasn't real. But he hadn't had a hallucination in four weeks, there was no reason for them to return now. He took a deep breath, clearing his mind.

"And you chose to ignore him." He wasn't surprised. Stacy always did what she wanted. He didn't mean to sound so harsh, but he felt the need to protect himself. Stacy didn't answer. Instead she looked at him and it struck her how much older he had gotten over the last few years. The gray in his hair and beard was much more visible; the lines in his face were a little deeper and he was leaning on his walking stick like he could hardly put any weight on his leg. But his piercing blue eyes were still as penetrable as always. She remembered the times when she would just get lost in them, smiling a little at the memory.

"Stacy?"

"I'm sorry. James told me what had happened and I wanted to see you." She didn't say how much she knew about the events that had lead to House being admitted to a psychiatric facility and that unsettled House.

The pain in his leg intensified for a moment and House held his breath until it passed. Stacy saw him close his eyes and knew he was in pain, a flashback of the aftermath of House's infarction flashing before her eyes. Ten years had gone by, but she remembered it all too well.

"Please, let's sit." She gestured for him to join her on the bench. House couldn't argue. His leg was killing him and he had another hour to go before his next dose of Vicodin. But he hated that she saw him like this.

House made sure he sat to Stacy's right, a habit he had picked up over the years, just to avoid anybody accidentally bumping into his bad leg.

"What happened to your shoelaces?" Stacy noticed the lack of laces in his Nikes.

"Lethal weapons. Can't trust a crazy person with them."

"You're not crazy." She said matter-of-factly.

"How would you know? You do realize this is a mental hospital, right?"

"Well, I know you, Greg." She almost sounded condescending.

"Maybe I've changed." Two minutes together and they were already bickering. It all felt too familiar. He looked at his shoes without laces, his head swimming with emotions, both good and bad. The internal struggle was giving him a headache.

"I highly doubt that." Stacy noticed the emotional barrier Greg put between them. He had done it often before and she recognized it immediately. This man didn't change.

Neither of them said anything, both listening to the wind caressing the leaves of the oak; watching the other patients and their families as they met again in the garden. Stacy waited for Greg to say something, anything, but he kept staring at his shoes. Up close, the lines in his face were even more visible and he looked tired, like he hadn't slept in months. After a while Stacy couldn't take it and she reached for his hand. "You know I'm here if you wanna talk."

Greg was startled a little at the contact and stared at her hand in his, feeling her squeeze him softly as she spoke. He shouldn't be surprised. Stacy always broke through whatever barrier he put up, not caring what his reasoning was for putting it up in the first place. It was a trait he used to love about her, the way she saw through him, the way she always saw him for who he was, not who he pretended to be; the rude cripple with a hatred to people in general.

"What did Wilson tell you exactly?" He needed to know.

"He told me you were hallucinating, probably because of the Vicodin."

"Did he tell you what I hallucinated?"

"He told me about Amber."

"And?"

"And that it was so bad, you couldn't tell the difference between the hallucinations and reality." Stacy had been shocked when James had told her that.

"He didn't tell you I hallucinated having sex with Cuddy? I'm surprised." The words came out like they had no meaning. This was just House bating her, trying to get a reaction out of her. And it worked. Stacy was stunned.

"Greg, I had no idea." She didn't know what else to say. She could only imagine the fear Greg must have felt when he realized he had been hallucinating. Not being able to trust his own mind, that what he values most in his life, must have been the most terrifying feeling he could ever experience.

A silence fell between them. Greg was satisfied that he had been able to shock Stacy into silence. But that was the only reaction he had gotten out of her.

"Does Lisa know?" How would she react to this?

"I don't know. Wilson is the only one who knows about it. He might have told her. I don't know."

"Are you in love with her?" She wanted to know, because it might just change things completely.

Greg's voice changed and was barely audible. "I thought I was. Now I'm not so sure anymore." His honesty shone through and it touched Stacy.

"I'm so sorry." God, he had been through a lot.

"I don't need your pity, Stacy."

"I know, Greg. I know." Instead, she just caressed his hand, wondering when the last time was that someone had held his hand. She was also surprised that Greg hadn't pulled back yet.

He gazed up into her eyes and gave her an almost apologetic smile, like he knew she still loved him, just as he knew he still loved her on some level. That feeling had just become a part of him, buried deep inside, only rising to the surface when they were together. It had been like that 4 years ago when Stacy had come to Princeton Plainsboro with her husband and it was the same now. And he knew she felt the same. He didn't need her to say it. It was there in her eyes, in her face, in the way she held his hand.

They both sat on the bench, lost in thought. Time passed by, but neither of them was keeping track. House's head was hurting, but it was momentarily drawn out by a piercing pain in his leg. He let go of her hand, bending over his leg in agony.

"Damn it!" He clenched his teeth, rubbing his right leg with both hands.

Stacy was startled by the outburst and was momentarily at a loss for what to do.

"Where's your Vicodin? I mean, do you still take that, or is there something else?" Worry sounded through in her voice. She hated seeing him in pain. She couldn't count the moments she had wished she could bear the pain for him, take it all away.

House was taking deep breaths, eyes shut again, massaging his leg. "Monitored dosage. I only get one pill once every 6 hours."

"Well, how long until your next dose?"

"Less than an hour." He was looking forward to it.

"Can't they give it to you sooner? I could ask…" The negotiator in her surfaced. It was so natural for her to try and take control over a situation.

"No! Forget it." House interrupted her, rubbing his leg even more frantically, like the stress of her presence was causing his pain to increase. "There's no breaking the rules here. Trust me, I've tried." Stacy knew she was on his turf. She had never been in a situation like this and yet she couldn't help but be her audacious self. "I'm sorry," she said softly. She didn't know what to do. Stacy never really knew what to do when House was in pain. So, instead she just rubbed her hand over his back softly, hoping the action would distract him.

Stacy didn't know how long they sat there, but some time passed before House settled down a little and his breathing returned to normal. With her right hand still on his back and her left hand in her lap, she saw him looking at her hand and she knew he was staring at one finger in particular; one that used to have a ring around it. She stopped her ministrations and absentmindedly folded both hands in her lap. Greg stared ahead again and Stacy waited for him to speak, knowing he couldn't help himself.

"What happened to Mark?" There was no gloating in his voice, but he didn't look at her.

"It didn't work out. We got divorced about six months ago."

"Is that why you're here?" He didn't care why they split up. He was looking at her now, curiosity getting the better of him.

"No, it's not."

"Dr. House! You're time is up." The orderly had returned and evidently 45 minutes had passed. House and Stacy stared at each other. Greg wanted to ask her why she was here, but their time was over.

Stacy walked up the gravel path with House, knowing the slight incline would be painful for him. There were still so many things she wanted to talk to him about, so against her better judgment, she asked: "Is it okay if I come back next week?" She stopped walking and Greg turned around to face her. The question had caught him unawares. She wanted to come back? He hadn't even thought about next week. He was living day-to-day these days, but the fact that she wanted to see him again intrigued him, even though he was too proud to ever let on about that fact. And he did want to see her again. He always did.

"Do whatever you want."

Stacy watched as Greg retreated inside, orderly at his side who was holding the door open for him. There were no goodbyes, no hugs, just an empty feeling and a thousand words left unspoken.

It was just like Greg to act indifferent and let her make the decision, so that if things didn't work out, he had her to blame. But she really wanted to see him, because her life was about to change dramatically and she wanted nothing more than to be around the people who knew her best. She wanted to be around the people she loved, no matter how screwed up that love might be. Stacy checked her watch. Tomorrow around this time, she would have the test results. She would decide then if she would come back here or not.

When House got back to his room, his roommate was nowhere in sight. 'Thank God', House thought. House wanted some time to himself. Stacy's visit had shaken him more than he was willing to admit to himself. Not being able to trust your own emotions was the most frightening thing one could ever experience. And House had been experiencing it for months: the weeks leading up to his admittance and now he still struggled with it on a daily basis. Stacy's appearance was probably more than he could handle. Seeing her again had brought back feelings he thought he didn't have anymore. Did he still love her? Wasn't he in love with Cuddy? Was he even capable of love after everything that had happened? He was such a mess. But he also knew that Stacy was probably the only person in the world that could help him through this, because she was the outsider looking in, looking into his life with a different point of view. And she most likely knew him better than anybody, including Wilson and Cuddy.

Not long after House got to his room, the doctor in charge came by with his Vicodin. Because of the lower dosage and the minor detox House went through when he first came to Mayfield, the pills had regained some of their original strength and the pain in his leg soon diminished. House laid back on the bed and replayed the afternoon over and over, imagining Stacy's hand in his again. How long had it been since he had been touched by anyone? He hadn't even hugged Wilson when his friend had dropped him off at Mayfield. To be honest, he shied away from human touch, knowing that whoever came too close would end up getting hurt and he was afraid he would get hurt as well. But he craved it. Maybe more than anything else. He had been denying himself for far too long. For a while he thought that Cuddy might be the one to fill the emptiness, but he had pushed her away, too. She was probably too scared now to come anywhere near him. He didn't blame her. And again, Stacy was probably the only one who didn't care about getting too close. She would just push her way in. And maybe that was exactly what he needed right now.

He closed his eyes and let the Vicodin take over, clouding his mind, easing his thoughts and relieving the pain as he drifted off to sleep until those 45 minutes he'd spent with her almost seemed like a dream.


	2. You're not an angel

**A/N:** So, by now I assume everybody has seen 'Broken'. This fic was started before that episode and you'll notice a few things that are different in this fic. So, just bear with me. But I do promise there will be some sort of overlap in the future. And I do appreciate all the reviews! And again a big 'thank you' to my beta!

* * *

Stacy entered James Wilson's office, jacket draped over her arm. She had tried to prepare for this meeting, but had failed miserably. It's not hard to imagine good news, but the opposite seemed impossible.

Stacy's life had taken a down turn nearly a year ago. Her now ex-husband Mark had suggested a trial separation, because things were just not working out anymore. But Stacy knew it had been a long time coming.

About a year after Mark and Stacy had returned from Princeton to Short Hills, Stacy had confessed about her one night stand with Greg. She hadn't told him she had planned on leaving Mark. There was no reason to upset him further. However, the minute Stacy had told Mark, she had realized she didn't regret it had happened. She was sorry she had hurt Mark, but that night with Greg had not been a mistake. How could it have been if it had convinced her to go back to him? And now Mark's suspicions had been confirmed and things were never the same since. Especially when the topic of kids came up. Stacy had never wanted kids, but as a last attempt to save her failing marriage, they had nevertheless tried for a short while to get pregnant. Stacy's OBGYN had told her that her age might complicate things and after several months of disappointments, Stacy told Mark she couldn't do it anymore. All the tension was too much for them to take and they took a break, until Stacy got tired of the back and forth relationship she found herself in and filed for divorce 6 months ago.

Stacy missed her friends, so the logical place to move to seemed to be Princeton. But Princeton also meant Greg. And she wasn't sure she could handle seeing him after everything that had happened, feeling way too vulnerable yet to fall under his spell again. And she knew she would do just that the moment she saw him. He was one of her very few weaknesses and she hated it, but at the same time, she couldn't resist it either. But then things had changed again, when one morning Stacy had just gotten out of the shower in her new apartment and had felt something strange in her breast, something she hadn't felt before. It was any woman's worst nightmare and it became a reality for her. It had taken her a few weeks before she had finally mustered up the courage to call James Wilson and even then she had been too afraid to tell him why she wanted to meet with the oncologist, making up an excuse to just want to catch up with an old friend.

So, two weeks ago, Stacy had made the trip to Princeton, meeting James for lunch at a restaurant not far from the hospital. James caught her up on all the things that had happened in his life; his third divorce, Amber's death. He tried to avoid talking about House, not wanting to worry her, but it was inevitable, especially since House was a big part of his life and House's admission to Mayfield had been hard on him as well. He had tried to soften the blow for her and tell her it was no big deal and not to worry, but in the back of his mind he knew it was in vain.

Stacy had sat there listening to James tell her how Greg's Vicodin addiction had spiraled out of control after the apparent suicide of one of his fellows and that it had gotten so bad that Greg had lost all sense of reality. She was horrified and at the same time she wished she had been there for him, not sure how her presence would have changed the situation, but hating that she wasn't here for him. Her first reaction had been to see when she could visit him. James told her sternly that House didn't want anybody visiting him and that she knew better than anybody that House hated having to surrender to help. And she did. But the urge to go see him was so overwhelming, she had almost forgotten why she had met with James in the first place. Until James had asked how she had been and she had told him about her marriage falling apart and her recent discovery of a lump in her breast.

James was a little shocked at first. He had no idea Stacy had come to see him for a consult. And the lump itself didn't faze him too much. He met with women every day, each of them with some sort of mass in their breast. And almost always it was nothing to worry about. And that's what he told Stacy, but he did schedule her for a mammogram when he had gotten back to the hospital. And now it was time for Stacy to find out if there was something to worry about.

"Hi, James," Stacy said.  
"Stacy, have a seat." He was looking through some paperwork and put a folder on top of the stack and opened it. "How are you?"  
"I was hoping you could tell me." She smiled faintly, trying not to get too worried. Wilson opened the folder, took the mammogram image out of the file and put it on the light board.  
"We found two masses." Wilson knew there was no way to prolong this conversation and he had done it countless times before, but this was Stacy. He'd known her for about 10 years, ever since she and House had started dating. He'd been there through the good and the bad and even after she had left Princeton, they had kept in touch.

He pointed to a mass on the image. "It's hard to tell at the moment exactly how big it is, but there is a chance it may have spread to your lymph nodes. The other one is smaller." He pointed again, as Stacy sat in silence, taking it all in.  
"At the moment, it's hard to tell if they are cancerous. See, a poorly outlined, cloudy area is more likely to suggest cancer. However, not all breast cancers are perfectly round, and some cancers may appear well-defined." He gave her a moment to process all the information as he took a seat next to her at his desk.  
"The next step will be a diagnostic work up with another mammogram to get a better view of the masses and an ultrasonography. When we have those results, we will determine whether a biopsy is needed. I already scheduled you for the procedures later this week." Stacy had told Wilson she had taken some time off from work because she was considering moving back to Princeton, therefore he knew she was available.

Stacy didn't say anything, she just kept staring at the image hanging from the light board.  
"I can't believe it." Her voice trailed off. Of all the things she had been through in life, the illnesses she had seen, she never thought she would be the one with a possibly life threatening disease. This happened to other people. Not her. She was a successful lawyer, she was strong and independent. A valued member of her community.  
"I'm sorry," she heard James say. She felt his hand squeeze her shoulder. "But it might still be benign. I don't want to get your hopes up, but it's too early to assume anything. We need to do another scan first and then we'll know for sure."  
"Okay. Thank you, James." She hung her head. Somehow, it felt too heavy to keep it lifted. Stacy felt a tear slide down her cheek and quickly wiped it away. She wanted some good news for a change. The divorce, the move, the lump, hearing about Amber, then Greg and now this. It was all so much.

Wilson handed her a tissue from the box he kept on his desk. He hated that this was happening to her. "Can I get you some water?"

"Yes please." Maybe that would wash away the other lump that had formed in her throat.

As James got up, Stacy spoke. "I went to see him yesterday." Somehow admitting that when James had his back turned towards was much easier. James stopped dead in his tracks.

"You went to see House?" He turned around to face her. He had to make sure, because he was convinced he had told her not to go.

"I just had to see him." She was still staring at the floor, occasionally wiping away at her nose.

"Stacy, I told you he didn't want any visitors." He handed her a glass and took his usual seat behind his desk.

"I know. I'm sorry, but I just-" Before she could finish the sentence, Wilson cut her off.

"Just what? You weren't doing so well, so you decided to check on him? He's been through hell these past few months. He doesn't need you barging in on his life, only to mess it up again!" His voice was much louder now. What the hell was she thinking? James always liked Stacy, but sometimes he resented the fact that she could be so selfish and couldn't see what effect her presence in House's life did to House. And by extension to him, because he was always the one picking up the pieces. He had been there when Stacy had first left and he had been there when House had told Stacy to go the last time she was here.

Stacy was surprised by James' outburst.

"I have no intention of messing up his life. I just wanted to see how he was doing."

"Do you still love him?" Stacy looked up at Wilson, unwilling to give him the answer. She sighed and turned her eyes away, which was enough for him. He was silent for a moment.

"Because he and Cuddy…" his voice trailed off. He wasn't sure how much to tell her.

"I know, he told me."

"He told you?" Wilson was momentarily surprised. "What did he say?"

"He told me about the hallucination. Does Lisa know?"

"I haven't told her anything. I think it's best if she hears it from him, or doesn't hear it at all. Listen Stacy, House and Cuddy have…" He had to find the right words. "…grown closer this last year. I think they both have feelings for each other, but you know them. They are the worst communicators when it comes to dealing with emotions."

"Tell me about it." She knew that first hand. Stacy was silent for a moment. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I shouldn't have visited him. I told him I wanted to come back, but I guess it might be best if I don't."

"I would think so." They stared at each other. They both cared so much for House and that had always been their common ground and the reason for their arguing, since the didn't always agree on what was best for House.

"I guess I should go." Stacy grabbed her jacket and purse and got out of the chair.

"Stop by the nurses' station. They will tell you when your appointment is. I'll probably see you next week. Try not to worry too much, okay?" Wilson smiled faintly and gave Stacy a hug before she opened the door and left his office.

"Thanks, James."

He sat back down in his chair and wondered if he should bring Stacy up the next time he talked to House.

***

"James Wilson." Wilson answered the phone, hoping it was House. He usually called around this time. When House was admitted, he was allowed one phone call a week and the first time Wilson had received the call, he had been very surprised to hear his friend on the other line.

"Greg House." House answered in the same tone.

"Hey! How are you doing?"

"I'm alright. The people here are still driving me insane, if that's even possible." Wilson smiled. "For a moment there I thought I was hallucinating again." House didn't embellish.

"Why, what happened?" Fear shot through Wilson. House had come a long way since he had been at Mayfield. He would have been back at square one if his hallucinations came back.

"Stacy came by." He heard Wilson release his breath. "You knew she was planning a visit?"

"She mentioned something. But I told her you didn't want any visitors and I wasn't sure she would actually do it, so I didn't say anything." Both men were silent. "How was she?" Wilson had no idea if Stacy had said anything about her consult with him to House.

"She was her natural self; pushy, annoying." Beautiful, he thought to himself.

"Is she coming back or was it a one-time thing?"

"I don't know. I think she wanted to come back."

"Do you want her to?"

"I don't know." He didn't want to tell Wilson that he hadn't thought about anything but this coming Sunday. "You didn't tell her about Cuddy."

"I figured if you wanted people to know, you would tell them yourself. Did you tell her?" Just as he didn't betray House's confidence, he also wouldn't betray Stacy by telling House she had been to see him on Monday.

"Yeah."

"How did she take it?"

"I don't know. She was shocked, but that's about it. She probably just felt sorry for me. She didn't tell me why she was back, though." He heard Wilson sighing on the other end and knew he knew more. "Wilson, what do you know?"

"Did she tell you she had gotten a divorce?" He might buy that as a reason.

"She didn't have to. Her empty ring finger did all the talking."

"Maybe that's why. She mentioned she was looking for a place in Princeton again."

"No. that's not it. She said as much."

"Dr. House, time's up!" One of the orderlies who had been clocking House's time on the phone was standing next to him.

"Gotta go," House said with a hint of disappointment in his voice. Now he still didn't know why Stacy was back.

"Okay, call me next week."

"I always do." House hung up.

***

That Sunday, House was looking forward to seeing Stacy again. He wanted to figure out why she was here. If it hadn't been the divorce, then there had to be some other reason. For a second the thought that she had come back for him shot through his mind, but he quickly tried to push that aside. As the hours went by, House tried to occupy himself by reading and playing cards with the other patients. But none of it worked. The weather had changed since last week and it was coming down hard. There was even the occasional crackle of thunder that lit up the sky. He wanted to see her. But it was already a quarter to four and visitors were only allowed on the grounds until 4 'o clock. He was pretty sure Stacy knew that. Knowing her, she knew exactly when she could visit the moment she first set foot here.

House went out into the patient's garden, which was on the opposite side of the hospital. This was also the side of the guest parking lot. He told himself he wasn't waiting for her, but he took up residence under the canopy. It was then that he saw an old familiar Honda parked underneath a large tree. Most visitors had left, so it wasn't hard to see the car. He wasn't sure if Stacy even still had that old thing, but it sure looked like it.

The rain on her windshield was loud and Stacy's crying was muted by it. She had come back to Mayfield, even though she had told Wilson she wouldn't. But she had told Greg she would. She couldn't disappoint him now. She had quickly realized however as she had driven up the hill that facing Greg would be even harder. She wanted to tell him about the test results. She even brought them with her in case she lost her nerve. But those results were also the reason she had never even made it out of the car. The moment she had picked them up, she had caught a few words and read them over again, and then she had lost it. All the emotions that had been building up over the past few months were boiling over and she couldn't control them anymore. And then the tears had come and for the longest time she hadn't been able to calm down, panic taking over. The words mammogram, cancer and mastectomy were repeating themselves over and over in her head. If her life hadn't been such a mess, if she hadn't gotten divorced and wasn't in the middle of a move, she might have been able to deal with this better. After all, there was nothing to worry about just yet. But her life was a mess and the whole situation was just unbearable. How did everything get so screwed up?

The rhythm of the rain tapping on her windshield only made everything worse. Stacy had lost track of time and was about to pull out of her spot in the parking lot when she saw a familiar form step outside of the hospital. His limp gave him away and she wondered if he would recognize her car if she would just drive away. But seeing him there, through the rain, gave her a sense of hope. Greg, the man she had loved for years, was in a mental hospital and he was fighting every day to get better. She had seen him fight when he had his infarction, see him wanting nothing more than for things to return to normal again. He knew better than anyone else what she was going through, especially if the tumor turned out to be cancer and she had to have a mastectomy.

Before she realized what she was doing, Stacy opened the door and stepped out into the rain. Warm drops of water covering her face, melting together with the tears she had shed. But she didn't move, fear of what she had to tell him paralyzing her.

Greg watched Stacy sit in her car. For a moment the rain had become less heavy and he had been able to make out her figure sitting behind the wheel. He even thought he saw her wiping her cheeks, but he couldn't be sure. A thousand questions swam through his mind. But then her door opened and she had gotten out, the rain quickly covering her. She hadn't moved. She just stared at him and he knew she was debating whether or not to go in.

He couldn't do this. Why was she here if she wasn't coming in? She did tell him she wanted to come back, right? Then why was she just staring at him? What did she want? He couldn't get dragged in again, so he turned around and headed back in. He felt like an idiot for having spent all of the week looking forward to her visit. His therapist had told him he had issues with trusting people and that is what he should be doing, if he ever wanted to regain any form of happiness again. And he wanted to trust people. They just made it hard for him to do and Stacy had just proven that again.

Stacy watched as Greg's face turned from expectant to disappointed and hurt. He lowered his eyebrows and moved his eyes away from her to the ground in front of him, before turning his back to her and walking back inside and she knew that coming here had been a mistake. She had done exactly what James had been afraid of; she had let Greg down again.

* * *

To be continued...


	3. You're a woman

The wipers on her windshield were working overtime. "_Heavy rainfall and possible thunderstorms will continue well into the morning, when-"_ Stacy turned the engine off, which silenced the weatherman on the radio. She got her umbrella from the passenger's seat and got out of her car. As she looked up, the gray building was looming over her and she had to take a deep breath before she started to walk up to the entrance.

Stacy was determined to talk to Greg. She had lost the nerve last week, when she had sat in her car and realized how screwed up her life was at the moment, not to mention the situation Greg was in. Emotions had gotten the better of her and she had been too afraid to go in and see him. But then he had stepped out and looked at her. She had seen the hurt and disappointment on his face before he had turned his back and walked back inside. All she wanted to do was go after him, but she hadn't been able to move. So, for the longest time she had stood out in the rain, looking at the closed doors, considering her options, before she had finally decided to go home.

And now she was back. With more information than she had had last week. Stacy had gone in for a diagnostic work up and another mammogram. The mammogram had revealed a solid mass in her breast and Wilson had told her she would have to have a biopsy of the tumor to determine whether it was cancerous or not. The biopsy was scheduled for tomorrow and a fear of the unknown kept her from telling any of her friends. She didn't want to worry anybody unless she really had to. But she wanted to tell Greg; needed to tell him. Most of the time, Stacy felt like she was in a dream, floating slightly above everything, unable to touch reality. Greg would tell her what to expect and if she should be worried at all. He could be bluntly honest sometimes, too honest for some people. But she needed someone who would not sugarcoat the possible outcomes of this biopsy. She needed someone to put both her feet back on the ground. And Greg was just the man.

The walk to the front desk was a short one. There weren't many people about, giving the sound of her heels on the tile floor an eerie echo. "Hi, Stacy Hamilton. I'm here to see Gregory House." Stacy told the receptionist at the desk, who then proceeded to flip through some papers.

"I'm sorry Ms. Hamilton, but Dr. House is not seeing anybody today." The receptionist looked at her with an apologetic smile.

Stacy was taken aback. "Why, is he okay?" Worry shot through her, an emotion she had become quite familiar with over the last few weeks.

"Actually, he is fine." The male voice came from behind her and Stacy turned around. A man, dressed in a suit was standing behind her. He had a kind smile on his face, which made Stacy suspicious and curious at the same time. "Hi, I'm Doctor Nolan, Dr. House's psychiatrist." He extended his hand to her. "And you must be Stacy Hamilton."

Stacy shook his hand, curiosity overtaking her. "I am. Can you tell me what's going on?"

"Why don't we go into my office?" He extended his hand again, this time to show her the way.

When they reached Nolan's office, Nolan left little time for further introductions. He was intrigued by the role Stacy had played in House's past and he wanted to get to know her better. Stacy's name had come up a few times in recent sessions with House and Nolan had found that Stacy might play a crucial role in House's recovery, especially when he had learned that Stacy had visited House for the first time 2 weeks ago. The only person to visit him since his admission to Mayfield.

Stacy took a seat opposite Nolan, in his big, spacious office, facing away from the door. The room was darker than it should be, mainly because the gray clouds prevented any sunshine from peering through. The rain was pounding on the big windows to her right, keeping rhythm with her beating heart.

"Tell me, how long have you known Dr. House?" Stacy was again taken by surprise by his forwardness.

"For about 15 years. Can I ask what this is all about? Why isn't Greg receiving anybody?"

"Ms. Hamilton, Dr. House has been through a hard time and it's about to get worse for him."

"Why is that?" How could things possibly get worse?

"Dr. House has agreed to stop taking Vicodin. He has already been on a monitored dosage, but to make sure he doesn't relapse into abuse of the narcotic, I suggested he stopped taking it altogether. And he agreed."

"And how is this going to worsen his situation?"

"Dr. House's body is still addicted to the painkiller. And mentally it isn't much different. He will go through a period of detox, during which his system will clean his body of toxins related to the drug. For a while, the pain in his leg will increase and he will possibly suffer dry heaves and total body pains." Stacy was stunned. Greg had volunteered to do this?

"But the end result will be a better manageable pain in his leg and no Vicodin abuse."

"I can't believe he has agreed to do this."

"What he experienced right before coming here has frightened him to the point where he realized it was becoming a problem. The only thing that has kept him from quitting Vicodin is the fear of increased pain in his leg. It is my understanding you were with Dr. House when he had his infarction?"

"I was. I…" her voice trailed off. She needed a minute to digest all this and Dr. Nolan allowed her the time. "Has he talked to you about me?"

"Your name has come up." Nolan sported that smile again, giving Stacy the idea that he knew more than what he lead on. And he probably did. But she didn't like to be kept out of the loop.

"What has he told you? That I betrayed his trust? That I left him after he had his infarction? That I was ready to leave my husband to be with him again?" Frustration was building in her.

"And that you were the only woman he ever loved." And the frustration was gone.

"Ms. Hamilton, I am not trying to play matchmaker here, but from what Dr. House has told me, there seems to be a strong connection between you, especially after the way he talked about you when you first visited. And detoxing is a big step for him. That is why I also suggested he shouldn't go through this alone. But when I mentioned your name, he told me quite clearly you were the last person he wanted help from. Some further inquiries revealed there were some unresolved issues between the two of you. I don't want to push you into doing anything you don't want to do, Ms. Hamilton, but if you care about him at all, I suggest you work through whatever problems you may have and be there for him when he will need you most."

Stacy just sat there in silence. This was a lot of information and this man she had never met before clearly knew a lot about her. But he also seemed to have Greg's best interest at heart and that is what comforted her and made her trust him.

"What makes you think I can help him if he doesn't want my help?"

"Because he cares about you, he cares about what you think."

"He told you about why our relationship ended, didn't he? He doesn't trust me."

"You might be surprised." His gaze drifted towards the door. "Dr. House. Come on in."

"What's going on here?" Suspicion clouded House's voice, but he didn't move from the doorway. Nolan got up from his chair and went over to his desk. When he returned, he handed Stacy a business card. "Please think about what we discussed." Stacy took the card from his hand and started at the letters. "I'll leave you two alone." And with that notion he left the room, passing House, who was still standing in the doorway.

House had seen Stacy's car in the parking lot and knew she had to be on the premises. He had told the receptionist at the desk he didn't want to see anybody today, no matter how much they begged. He had a feeling Stacy would be back, but after last week, he didn't feel like talking to her again. Stacy's car had been parked in the same spot for about 15 minutes and curiosity had gotten the better of him. Surely, she wouldn't do anything stupid as to go look for him. So, why would she still be here if she had been told he wasn't receiving visitors today? When he reached the desk, he had overheard one orderly talking about the 'hot older babe' that had come in to visit House again, so he went to the reception desk and asked what happened and to check and see if the woman had done her job. It was then that he learned Stacy had gone with Dr. Nolan to his office and he knew he had to go see them before Nolan told Stacy something he didn't want Stacy to know. He had only heard the tail end of their conversation, hearing Nolan say House still cared about her before he stepped in the doorway and showed his face.

House waited. If he remained where he was, walking away would be a lot easier and quicker.

He was still apprehensive about her, her presence here and most of all the reason why. When she had stood out in the rain last week, he had wished he knew what she was thinking, but it was clear she wasn't going to talk to him, which was a slap in the face. She always could talk to him. What had changed now? He wanted to know. Needed to know. "Why were you talking to Nolan?"

Stacy remained frozen in her seat. Detox, mammogram, cancer, psychiatrist, a jumble of words were swimming through her mind and she found it hard to breathe. She spotted a water cooler in the corner of the office next to the window and got up. As she poured some of the liquid in one of the white cups, she asked Greg if he wanted some water. But she never looked back at him, giving him the idea the question had been rhetorical and out of courtesy. Stacy turned to her side and stared out the window. House looked at the scene in front of him and instinct told him something was off. He had talked to Wilson again this week and the man had told him he had seen Stacy again. Either these two were dating or something else, something House didn't want to think about, was going on. It was the only explanation for Stacy's distant behavior. Something was wrong. The feeling crept over him like a cold breeze on a winter's night.

"Stacy." He waited for her to turn around, but when she didn't move, he took a few steps forward. The movement drew her attention. He looked at her face. The bags under her eyes were a little more visible, even though Stacy had tried to hide them with make-up.

"I'm sorry." Stacy's eyes met his. "About last week. I really wanted to come in and talk to you, but I-" If she finished that sentence, she would tell him the reason why and she wasn't sure she could.

"What's going on?" He took a few more steps towards her, but he was still a good distance away. "This isn't like you." The intimate comment shot through her and caused tears to form in her eyes. She had to tell him, even if it was only because he was a friend. She owed him that much. Stacy turned her eyes away and looked out the window again, the raindrops slowly making their way down.

"I've been seeing James."

House took a breath. That could still mean two things.

"Yeah, he told me. I know you guys are friends. So, either you've taken it to the next level or you're seeing him as a patient. Which one is it?" His voice was full of impatience and frustration.

Stacy smiled in spite of herself. His abrasiveness was still amazing. So was his bluntness. She searched for the words, but found nothing. She soon felt a tear sliding down her cheek and quickly wiped it away as she closed her eyes.

"I found a lump. In my breast." There. The words were out. She covered her mouth, trying to keep from crying, but to no avail. Her ears were buzzing, droning out most other sounds, except for a cane tapping the floor softly once, then footsteps, the cane again, and the footsteps. The sounds seemed far away and repeated a few times before she felt a hand on her shoulder. When she turned around, Greg's face was right next to hers, his blue eyes staring her down. Stacy just buried her face in Greg's chest, allowing herself the comfort of his arms.

Greg's heart sank. All of a sudden it all made sense. Her move back to Princeton, her seeing Wilson and eventually her visiting him. But also the distance she had kept between them. He knew her well and he knew that the fighter in her hated showing any sign of vulnerability or even mortality to the outside world. But then he also knew that she had always trusted him to protect her in a sense, and to an extent he always had. Greg just had no idea she still needed him.

He put his chin on her head, stroking her back as he silently tried to soothe her. His mind was racing, a thousand thoughts running through it. He felt like yelling, getting mad at somebody or breaking something. Except he couldn't very well do any of those things. Anger was coursing through his veins, the overwhelming need to protect consuming him. At the same time he felt trapped, trapped inside of Mayfield, not being able to help her. He held Stacy close, closing his eyes as he breathed in her familiar scent. "It's okay," he said into her hair. He took another deep breath. "It'll be okay." He had no idea if that was true, but he didn't know what else to say.

Minutes passed and neither of them said a word until Stacy pulled back, certain enough she could talk without her voice breaking.

"I'm sorry." She hadn't meant to fall into his arms and sob into his t-shirt, which was now damp from her tears. "You're shirt's all wet." She smiled faintly.

"How long have you known?" She could see the concern written all over his face.

Stacy's half-smile faded. "A few months. I went to see James about 3 weeks ago. I am scheduled for a biopsy tomorrow." She knew that skipping the steps of the first and second mammogram would tell Greg exactly which stage of the diagnosis she was in now.

"It could be nothing, you know." Greg turned away from her as he went to sit on Nolan's couch, which was lined up against the long wall, in front of the windows. Fatigue momentarily got the better of him.

"Or I could lose my breast." Although the emotions were high, she needed to have this conversation with somebody, because talking about it out loud made it seem more real and factual. Stacy was good with facts.

"Well, there are worst things in this world." House was being rational, as he always was.

"I remember you not being too fond of the idea of removing your leg when it had the potential to end your life."

"That was different."

"Different how? It seems pretty similar to me!" She was now standing in front of the couch, hands on her hips.

"You're getting way ahead of yourself. You should wait for the biopsy results. And even then if they have to go in and remove the tumor, they might still be able to save the breast. You know all this." His voice was even and to-the-point.

Stacy sighed deeply. She did know. But hearing him say it eased her mind just a little. Enough to make her want to change the subject.

"I do. I know. I'm just-"

"It's alright." He cut her off. Greg knew how scared she was and he knew how she dealt with tough situations.

Stacy took a seat next to Greg on the couch. Relief washed over her. The secret was out and for a moment she wondered why it had been so hard to tell him. His response had been just what she had expected. The hug was even more than expected. This was still the Greg she remembered. Under all those layers hid the man she had once fallen in love with. It was only after a little while that she noticed the soft regular taps of House's cane on the floor, which usually indicated he was preoccupied with something.

"Nolan told me about the Vicodin." She looked up to meet his eyes. "I think it's great that you're doing this." She loved that she was no longer the focal point of their conversation.

"I don't know. The pain…" He didn't finish the sentence. Didn't want to.

"I know you're scared of the pain, but in the end it will be better. At least that's what Nolan says. It's also what James has been telling me for years. Opiate dependency can make it seem like the pain is actually worse than it is." She was silent for a moment. "It takes a lot of courage to do this."

"Yeah, well, I've never felt the need to be courageous. Why start now?" He looked into her eyes and Stacy saw the fear in his.

"Because you don't want to relapse into abusing Vicodin again. You don't want to start hallucinating again and you want the pain to be manageable with something other than an addictive narcotic."

She reached for his hand, habit taking over, but she was unsure whether or not he would let her take it. But when he didn't move, she entwined her fingers with his, softly stroking her thumb up and down.

"If you want me to, I will be here for you. Nolan told me he thinks it's better if you don't go through this alone."

"He does, huh? Is that what you guys were talking about before I came in?"

"Yes, it was."

"He says I am suffering from PTSD. Apparently I suck at coping with bad situations." He let his voice trail off and gave her a weak smile.

"Really? You don't say." Stacy had to smile.

"Did you know I got shot? Twice?" His voice had a hint of mockery in it, like he couldn't believe it himself.

Stacy's mouth fell open. "Oh my God, when did that happen?"

"About six months after you left with Mark. Former patient. But it turned out to be a good thing. See, after I got out of my coma, I was pain free for a few months."

Stacy's mouth fell open again. "How?"

"Experimental treatment. I told Cuddy to give me Ketamine and she did. There was a fifty percent chance of the pain returning. And it did." He was silent for a moment. "Did Wilson tell you about the bus crash that killed his girlfriend?"

"Yeah, he did."

"And that I was taken hostage by a crazy patient?" He had to smile to himself. Hearing himself saying it out loud made it even more outrageous. No wonder he was messed up.

"God, Greg, I had no idea."

"Oh, and you know how I always had doubts that my dad was actually my dad? I ran a paternity test after he died. Guess what?"

"No way!"

"Yep. Turns out I was right after all." He smiled.

"You've had your suspicions since you were a teenager, right?"

"Yeah, I did." He was silent for a moment. "But then one of my fellows killed himself a few months ago and that's when things started to go downhill." Stacy squeezed his hand a little, noticing that his smile had faded.

In the span of a few minutes, House had told her about the events leading up to his admission into Mayfield. And the revelations seemed to come without any trouble, especially now that Stacy had told him what was going on with her. He knew he could trust Stacy. He had always known it, but he had just been too afraid to actually put his trust in her. It was then that House realized he had been an idiot for selling her short. Opening up to her now was his way of saying he wanted her help with the detox. He knew very well it was going to be ugly, but she had already seen the worst of him. Even more importantly, he wanted her by his side, because the moment those biopsy results came back positive for cancer, she was gonna need someone to lean on and deep down inside he knew that he wanted to be that person for her when the time came.

"I see we've made some progress here." Nolan was back and standing in the doorway with a smile on his face. The first thing he noticed when he had watched them sit on his couch together where their locked hands and Nolan knew his patient would not be alone this coming week.

House cleared his throat and stood up. It was one thing to let his guard down with Stacy, but having his shrink see him hold hands with a woman, was something else. Although he quickly realized he felt no embarrassment in the gesture. He simply liked having Stacy touch him.

"So, how do we do this, doc? When do we start?" A sudden feeling of empowerment came over him. Knowing he wouldn't have to do this alone felt more comforting than he was willing to admit.

"There's no use in waiting any longer. What do you say we start tomorrow? No more Vicodin as of 6 a.m. Ms. Hamilton will be able to visit you twenty-four seven during the course of the coming week. I will make sure she has a pass, so she can come and go as she pleases. We allow twenty-four seven visits, because the first few nights tend to be the hardest and research has shown that patients benefit most from having a loved one around during those times."

"Doctor, excuse me, but how will this go?" Stacy also got up. "When will the worst part be? I mean, I have a… thing… tomorrow." She looked at Greg for a moment, before returning her attention to Nolan. "I am not sure if I can be here then." She honestly had no idea how she would be feeling after the biopsy.

"Well, I think we will see the first indications of detox tomorrow night. The symptoms will increase for about two days after, but he should be feeling better after just four or five days."

To Stacy, somehow hearing the timeframe made the whole detox-process seem less horrendous. If there was a clear indication of when she could expect what, it was easier for her to deal with it. And five days really wasn't all that long.

"But you have to know, it won't be easy," Nolan continued. "Dr. House will experience a lot of discomfort and he might not be able to remember the good intentions we all have. Including yours. Can you handle that?" Stacy looked at Greg who was staring at his shoes. And she knew he was scared, didn't have to look into his eyes to know just how frightened he was.

"I can," she said convincingly, keeping her eyes on Greg. She knew she could. She had done it before. Greg met her eyes, unspoken words hanging between them, although she could tell from the look in his eyes that he was grateful.

"Thanks for letting me know, Doctor."

"You're welcome. And thank you for doing this. I am sure it will help a great deal. You have my card, don't hesitate to give me a call if you have any further questions."

"I will." Stacy answered.

"Doc, could you give us a minute?" House spoke up.

"Of course. I guess I'll see you both later." Nolan left the office.

Greg turned to Stacy. "Are you sure about this? I mean it seems like you've got enough to deal with as it is."

"Greg…" Stacy tried to stop him.

"And he's right. It won't be pretty." He cast his eyes downward, not sure if he could handle the disappointment if she turned him down now.

Stacy put her hand on his arm, forcing him to look at her. "I don't care." She felt the strength build within her. She had a purpose again. No matter what the biopsy results were, she had no control over them. Her life had spiralled out of control, but now she found herself in a situation she had some control over. For the next few days Greg needed her and she would be there for him. "I'll be here."

After everything that had happened, Stacy was still willing to support him. After all the crap he put her through, all the lies, the manipulations, the hurt, she was still here. The emotions became a little overwhelming and for a moment, House didn't know what to say. Or do. But he was glad when Stacy moved her hand from his arm up towards his neck, as she pulled him down to her and melted her body with his in a tender embrace. He hardly noticed his cane as it dropped to the ground with a soft thud. All he noticed was that he had both arms around her and didn't want to let go.

Greg felt Stacy pull back and wondered how long they had been standing like that.

"I should go." Greg was silent, but his eyes were pleading. He didn't want her to leave. His eyes were always the most telling part about him and with Stacy he hardly had to say anything and she would still know what he was feeling.

Stacy softly placed her hand on the side of his face. "I'll be back tomorrow." When she took a step backwards, she stumbled over the cane that was lying on the floor and reached to pick it up.

"Thank you." His voice was low and Stacy knew the comment encompassed far more than her handing him his cane. When Greg didn't say anything again, she leaned forward once more, softly placing a kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Stacy left Mayfield that day feeling better on many different levels. It felt like a big weight she hadn't noticed she was carrying, had been lifted off of her. And knowing she was needed gave her a new reason for fighting. She had no idea what to expect tomorrow, but she knew she would see Greg and that somehow was all she needed to know to make it through the day.


End file.
